


There and Back Again

by sunflower1343



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 09:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11941281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower1343/pseuds/sunflower1343
Summary: Takaba had run off seven years ago because he was losing himself in Asami's shadow.  Now he's made a name for himself and returned to Japan to see if he could pick up the pieces of their relationship. Only maybe Asami hadn't been waiting around for him to come back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When they got together after Naked Truth, I found I was much less interested in writing them. I like writing the moment they find each other. So I broke them up so I could put them back together again. (Sorry about the title. It was a lame joke I used for a working title, but when it came time to give it a real one I couldn't think of one better.) Written April 2009. 
> 
> This is two parts but I only had time to reproof the first part today. The second should be up in a day or two.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air outside Narita smelled like home, but for some reason it didn't feel like it. Home meant comfort, relaxation, happiness. A shudder ran through him, his muscles so tense even a breeze set them jumping. It took him back to the last civil war he'd covered, the one in Sudan, where he'd walked through towns with eyes flickering from side to side, trying to watch for danger from all angles. But here he knew exactly where the source of his anxiety was. 

It had been seven years since he'd been in Japan, since he'd run. He'd managed to lose himself, in more ways than one. Back then Asami had been the center of his life for so long that there hadn't been much to lose. He'd been eclipsed by his larger-than-life companion, overwhelmed, a shadow that disappeared into the shadow of the one standing before him. 

At first there'd been claustrophobic panic and anxiety attacks. Then he'd been unable to complete assignments because he found he no longer had a point of view. When he'd realized the problem he'd been terrified, more than the ties that had bound them, more even than the love that he'd felt. That he still felt. And instead of turning to Asami he'd turned from him and run. A boy's reaction, not a man's.

He took a deep breath as a taxi pulled up in front of him. 

But he'd found something out there, himself, yes, but also something more. And now it was time to come home. To Japan. To Asami. But that didn't mean it would be easy. To the contrary, he expected it wouldn't be. But he hoped there was still enough between them that they could work through it. After all, he'd never stopped loving Asami. He just hoped there was something left inside of Asami for him.

"The Sheraton on the Bay please." For old time's sake.

"Yes, sir."

He settled in for the long drive. Money wasn't a problem for him these days. Le Monde was taking care of his expenses as usual, though they didn't know that their ticket to Japan was for anything other than the world summit he was to cover. They'd jumped at the chance; it seemed he was now a status symbol for any newspaper. And now too he felt his own worth, and that made all the difference. 

At least, he hoped it did.

 

\--

 

"Asami-sama, we had a request for an interview today."

Asami didn't even look up from the financial data he was examining. "And you're bringing this up to me because...?"

"It's from Le Monde."

Asami's hand froze in the process of turning a page, then oh-so-casually continued to flip the paper. "I see. Would there be pictures taken?"

"There would."

"Arrange it. And Kirishima," Asami's eyes, hard and cold, rose to meet his. "See that my fiancée is there for it."

 

\--

 

Takaba sprang up the steps in front of the tall office building, his heavy bag of equipment jangling from his shoulder, his partner Philippe trying to keep up with him.

"What is your rush, Takaba?" the older reporter complained in French, pausing at the top to catch his breath. "We're early to the appointment, and Asami doesn't like people hanging at his doorstep."

Takaba turned back toward the tall, slim man who looked a little pale and felt guilty. They'd been covering the summit together all week and he knew the silver-haired Frenchman had been feeling his age lately. 

"I'm so sorry, Philippe. I forgot you'd been ill." More like he was too eager to get where they were going. He walked back to take his friend's arm. "Why don't we sit down for a few minutes and go over again what you want to cover upstairs?"

A pair of knowing green eyes looked down at him in amusement. "And then we can go buy me a cane and rocking chair? I'm not that bad off yet."

The grayish complexion gave lie to that though, and Takaba led him into the lobby to the nearest bench. "Well, I've heard Asami is tricky to work with, so I wouldn't mind making sure we have our details straight."

Philippe nodded, yet made no attempt to talk after he sat, still clearly needing time to recover. Takaba left him in peace. The interview would be stressful enough on both of them, maybe even more so since he hadn't told the reporter about his past with Asami, he thought guiltily. Maybe he should tell him now. 

But as he turned to speak, a commotion by the door caught his eye. Three burly guards who had to be Asami's boys walked into the lobby and were casing the place. One's gaze lingered a moment on Takaba's face, and he stared back blandly. The guard's eyes shifted away. Takaba didn't think he'd been recognized. After all, it had been so long.

The door to the building opened again and a young woman in a conservative mauve business suit was ushered in, the bodyguards blocking most of his view. What he saw of her beauty made his breath catch in his throat. Women were lovely the world over, but he'd always thought that something about a young Japanese woman captured the essence of femininity better than any others he'd seen. 

He supposed it related to his mother, he mused. He slipped the lens off the camera around his neck so he might immortalize her for his portfolio, but before he could get another glimpse the girl was whisked away to an elevator by her guards.

Glancing over at Philippe to ask he if knew who she was, he saw that the reporter was still staring at the marble floor. At least the color had begun to return to the man's face. Philippe must have felt eyes upon him because he looked up and smiled. "So, you've at least heard of Asami then? He's an interesting figure, very mysterious. I was expecting to have trouble getting an appointment when you told me the paper wanted it, but his office accepted right away. I was shocked, because I'd tried to see him several times before and been denied. He doesn't allow many interviews, you know? I suppose it's only natural that he's wanting publicity this week though."

That caught Takaba by surprise. "Why is that?"

A security guard interrupted. "Please excuse me, but are you Bouissou-san?" He completely mangled the name, but at least had the sense to address the Western one of the two of them.

"He is," Takaba said, rising from the bench. "And I'm the photographer." 

"I've had a call from the office upstairs. They're ready for you."

Philippe had risen; he was looking almost normal. "Please inform them that we're on our way up."

They were shown to a private elevator, the one the girl had taken. His friend noted, "We didn't even have to tell them we were here. They knew who we were the minute we walked in the door. Impressive."

"Scary, more like."

Philippe laughed. "Scariness is par for the course with certain classes of businessmen in Tokyo. You've been away for too long, Takaba."

"It can be good, getting away though. Sometimes you're too close to see things as they really are. Distance gives perspective."

"You sound like an older man than I am."

Takaba grinned, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. "I do, don't I? Well, I suppose adventures are never complete unless you return home to find what you've been missing all these years."

"And have you?"

Suddenly feeling shy, he found himself blushing. "I'm hoping I'm about to."

Philippe looked at him curiously. "You know Asami, don't you?"

"Yes."

"What is he to you?"

Takaba took a deep breath. "He is everything."

Philippe considered the answer, a serious expression on his face. "Did the paper want this interview, or did you?"

"I convinced them that they did."

The reporter nodded. "Fair enough. I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish this late in the game, but I'm lucky to be talking to the man so I'll go along with it. But Takaba... Akihito. Don't you think that this will just hurt you in the long run?"

"Why is that?"

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the foyer of the executive offices of Sion Enterprises.

Before Philippe could respond, a familiar man in glasses approached them and bowed. He looked unchanged, maybe just a little older. "Monsieur Bouissou. Asami-sama is expecting you." 

Kirishima's eyes shifted to Takaba's face. They didn't show the least surprise. Nor was there any warmth. "And you as well, Takaba-san."

Well. 

He was expected. He should have known. So Asami knew he was in town and hadn't tried to reach him? That didn't bode well.

"It's good to see you again, Kirishima-san." He tried to let the confidence flow from him that he'd gained over the past seven years. 

All of it was shattered moments later when he walked into the office at the end of the hall.

Philippe, as his senpai, had entered first and was presenting his card to Asami. Asami was saying something in French to the reporter. Takaba wasn't listening.

His eyes drank in the sight as he halted in the doorway. The broad shoulders in the perfectly-fit business suit. The perfectly sculpted face – were those lines around his eyes? Asami was forty-two now. He still looked more fit that a man of thirty. His hair seemed as dark as ever, perhaps with just a hint of gray at the temples. Takaba's eyes lingered on his lips, then he made himself look elsewhere before he did something foolish. His gaze traveled along the muscular body down to Asami's elegant hands.

One of which held someone else's.

His eyes flew up in shock to see the young woman from the lobby at Asami's side, smiling shyly at Philippe's congratulations.

_Congratulations?_

There was a slight cough behind him. It was Kirishima. "Takaba-san. You're blocking the doorway."

He stepped quickly inside, stammering an apology. The party in the center of the room turned to him.

Philippe continued, "This is the photographer, Takaba Akihito. I believe you know each other?"

Asami's eyes flickered over him dismissively. "We encountered each other in the past. Shall we begin? We still have a great deal to accomplish before the wedding, don't we my dear?" He put his arm around the young woman's waist and led her to one of the couches in the center of the room. Takaba was left standing there bleeding.

He couldn't move. His heart was in pieces at his feet. 

_Married? Asami is getting married?_

The rest of the interview passed in a painful daze. He wouldn't remember much of anything about the pictures he would end up taking, nothing but the happiness of the woman in front of him, and the way Asami smiled down into her eyes.

 

\--

 

"Takaba..."

"Call me Akihito, Philippe," he mumbled, a bit groggy from drink.

"Akihito. Let's go. I'm all for drinking away the sorrows of love, my friend, but I think you're beyond that."

Akihito felt an arm around his shoulder that tugged at him. His will was gone. He gave in and followed. "Have you ever been in love, Philippe?"

"Many times as you know, and most ended up with me getting acquainted with several bottles of good wine. Why you wanted sake I'll never understand. Perhaps that's why it failed to drown your sorrows. Something about drinking sake over a broken heart just isn't right."

Takaba laughed a little as they stumbled out of the bar into the street. "Not romantic enough?"

"Of course. A French man needs to keep up appearances. That way I can cry on another woman's shoulder the next night and she sighs and takes me home."

"You're ruthless."

"For me, with love, once you fall off you have to get back on, or you start getting afraid of the risk."

"For me, I was afraid in the beginning. But when I came home, I thought I was ready. It was time. I was such an idiot to think he'd be here waiting for me. I was so stupid as to think that he loved me the way I loved him."

"You know, Akihito..." Philippe came to a stop in the street. "Perhaps I shouldn't say this."

"Go ahead and say it. I probably won't remember it in the morning anyway."

"No? I'd think you'd remember this. Knowing what you'd told me I watched him, and her, during the interview. She adores him. What woman wouldn't? But he doesn't care about her I think. He tried to focus on her, yet it felt contrived – the way it feels when an experienced man seduces an inexperienced woman, trying to convince her of love. Only I felt like he was trying to convince you. Every so often I caught his eyes slipping toward you when you weren't looking, as if you were his center of gravity. And that was the only time they came to life. I won't say that what I saw there was pleasant, but you were never just an acquaintance to him."

Takaba sobered up instantly, his mind racing. "What are you saying? That he loves me? How could he?"

"I think he was trying to make it seem like you didn't matter. And yet somehow, you do. I don't know what he's feeling about you, maybe only hatred, but he didn't forget you, and he's feeling something." 

Philippe put his hand on Takaba's shoulder. "The wedding is Saturday. If it were I and he'd been mine, I would find him before then. Love is worth it. Believe me."

"But what if they really are happy? She loves him. Who am I to spoil their happiness?"

His friend stopped him and turned him by the shoulders so they faced one another. "Akihito, we have a limited number of days on this earth. I've always believed that we were put here to enjoy each one of them to the fullest. I like you, enough to remind you of why you left and came back. Everything you've done has been for this moment. Take your chance. If he says no, so be it. But you'll have done all you can, and the decision will be his."

"Philippe..."

"Ah, I've spoiled the mood. Let me tell you of the love of _my_ life, a young woman named Susan whom I met on a spring day in London in 1968..."

As they resumed walking Philippe's conversation meandered on, Takaba listening with half an ear. The sake was wearing off. The shock he'd felt earlier had passed. He knew why he'd returned. But was it worth it? In his mind he'd thought he'd have to fight Asami's anger, and perhaps a cooling of his emotions. But he never for a moment thought Asami might be in the middle of a serious relationship and possibly be happy without him. He never thought he'd be forgotten. 

Dammit, why hadn't he paid more attention that afternoon? He knew Asami, or at least he had. But he'd been so out of it that any clues about what he was thinking, if there were any, had been missed. 

Then the obvious hit him.

"My photos!" he interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"Philippe, is there a darkroom I could borrow?"

The older man stopped speaking, first surprise then a slightly resigned look on his face. "But of course." He pulled out his phone and quickly made a call, switching between Japanese and French with ease. The conversation was short and he ended it with a smile. "One of the local papers I work with is open all night, and their office isn't far. I just checked with one of the editors, and they said it was no problem."

An hour later he stood under the red light in the darkroom, the images in the pan of developing solution becoming visible. Most he just hung above him and tried to ignore, Asami's eyes focused on the woman beside him. But there was one picture of him alone, sitting on the edge of his desk, the skyline visible through the window behind him. His eyes bore through the lens and straight into Takaba's soul.

Takaba sat down heavily upon the stool by the counter, Asami's picture in hand. He wasn't sure just what he was seeing. Pride and anger, that was obvious. Takaba had only seen that look once before, in a hotel room right before his kidnapping when he'd accused Asami of not caring. He knew now that he had. 

But now? What did that mean? 

Philippe had been right about one thing, Asami wasn't as unaffected as he'd tried to pretend. 

Takaba pulled down one of the hanging pictures, one with the couple together. Who wouldn't want a woman like that? Takaba laughed a little. A gay man. She was lovely but no thanks. But he knew if Asami wanted kids that he'd only marry the best, and it looks like he'd picked her out. Was it just for kids? Maybe her family was connected?

"I'm trying to find excuses for you," he told the first photo. "I'm trying to figure out why, when as a newsman I know I should go straight to the source and ask. But you were playing games today so I have no idea if you'd be honest. I don't think I have any other choice though, do I?"

The man in the photo simply stared silently back at him, just like he always had. 

With a self-depreciating laugh he gathered his things and left the darkroom. When he stopped to thank the editor, the man said Philippe had been feeling ill and left early. He thought about calling him but decided to let him sleep. He'd call tomorrow.

For now, he had enough to think about.

 

\--

 

The next day when Asami got to his office there was a bouquet of roses on his desk. A card, unopened, nestled among the blossoms. "What is this?"

Kirishima glanced at it. "I assume it's from Satoko-san. She was very happy you'd called her yesterday."

Asami plucked the card out from among the thorns, swearing as he scratched himself on one. One manicured fingernail slit the envelope open. 

 

_Have dinner with me tonight._  
_Miraville_  
_20:00_  
_Akihito_

 

His temper flared. So, Takaba wanted to talk. Seven years too late. Fuck him. "Miraville. How could that brat get a reservation there on such short notice?" 

The vase of roses was shoved into Kirishima's hands. "Give these to the office ladies. Say they're from Suoh. He needs a boost in popularity."

Kirishima juggled his appointment book and papers and the flowers. "Yes, Asami-sama. And the card?"

The card sailed into the trash.

But after the door clicked shut, Asami found himself bending over to pick it out of the otherwise empty wastebasket. His fingertip skimmed the words as if trying to feel something of the one who'd spoken them. Then he realized what he was doing and crumpled it in his fist before throwing it away again.

There was a stack of reports on his desk and he snagged the top one, flipping through it, scanning the pages before settling down to read. But his eyes couldn't help shifting to the chair where the boy had sat yesterday, looking like a clubbed baby seal. 

Asami had liked that look on him. 

His fingers drummed a pattern into the mahogany desk top. He made a conscious effort to still them. He was not going to let this happen. There was no time for this distraction, not with the wedding in five days. He had a schedule to keep.

He went back to his report, but something about that thought niggled at him all afternoon.

 

\--

 

Takaba checked his watch for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. Which was stupid because it was only an hour past their meeting time. And while Asami was usually very punctual, when he felt the need to drive a point home to someone about how big and powerful he was and how he was doing you a favor just to show up he could make you wait for hours. That would definitely be the case tonight. If he showed up at all. 

No matter, he'd wait. He owed Asami that much after the way he'd left, just leaving a letter for him on the bed.

Not that the letter was nasty or anything. It had just been him trying to be honest about it all, that he'd had to leave for a while to straighten himself out. He'd just never expected it to take so long. No wonder Asami had given up.

But a wife? Asami had always seemed too free for such a thing. It had made no sense, so Takaba had done some research that afternoon. Her family was extremely wealthy, and it was old money. The Satoko Group owned a variety of companies and properties encompassing everything from manufacturing and sales of electronic goods to owning a baseball team. One uncle was in politics, an influential Diet member. Her brother was a wizard in the world of finance and going to be following in his father's footsteps as CEO. The company would be strong for years. This was an alliance and a good one for Asami. 

Takaba hoped that was all it was. Even so, it was too advantageous a deal. Asami wouldn't want to break it off.

He swallowed nervously then sipped at his water glass, the cool liquid easing his throat. His boredom led him to play "guess the occupation of the other diners", but after he'd stared awhile he gave it up because they were starting to stare back in annoyance.

"I should have brought a deck of cards," he mumbled under his breath.

"Sir?" A passing waiter had heard him and stopped.

"Nothing. Sorry. Hey I don't suppose you have any cards on you?"

The waiter glanced at the empty seat across from him and gave him a commiserating smile. "Sorry. But if you want to wait until after work you can go out drinking with my buddies and me."

"Thanks. I've had enough of that though."

The waiter shrugged and moved on.

Some noise by the maitre d's station caught his ear and he turned expectantly to look, a smile waiting on his lips. It died though when he saw that it was only some young guy being pushy about trying to get a table. Takaba shook his head. Didn't the idiot know that being loud and demanding just got you ignored by the staff? Takaba had been trained well. The French knew how to handle such things. Including love affairs. Not that he'd indulged. His mind and body only craved one person and that had never wavered from the beginning.

Trying not to be dejected, he checked his watch again. 21:30. His stomach started feeling a little queasy.

Who was he kidding? Asami just wasn't interested anymore. He must have been seeing things in that photo. Maybe his viewfinder was no longer accurate when it came to capturing the man he'd left behind.

His cell was lying to the right of his plate and on a whim he tried dialing their old number. It was one he'd never forgotten.

_I'm sorry. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please check the number and dial again._

What did he expect? It wasn't like Asami owed him anything. He was probably just a nuisance to him. 

Then again, that was the first time he'd dialed that number since he'd left.

The phone rang, startling him. The number on the screen was unknown to him. Hands trembling a little, he picked it up. "Hello? This is Takaba."

"Takaba-san. Your number was first on Philippe Bouissou's dialing list. Are you a personal friend?"

What was this? "Yes, I am." 

"He's had a heart attack. I'm a nurse in the trauma ward. Can you contact his family? We have no information on them. His condition is quite serious."

"He doesn't have any family." Takaba stood. "What hospital? Where?"

She told him.

"I'm on my way."

He tossed some money at the waiter, explaining things to him as he ran out of the restaurant. Asami wasn't coming. Philippe though, he'd been a true friend. Takaba would be there for him.

 

\--

 

Six hours later he stood outside the hospital and looked up at the dark sky, trying to find any pinpoint of light he could focus on. It was hard to see anything though through blurred vision. He shook his head, trying to clear the tears from his eyes.

Philippe had died in the operating room. His heart, they'd said, had been weak to begin with so there wasn't much they could do to repair it, and no transplant had ever been requested.

It had hit Takaba like a physical blow. Philippe had known he was dying. And what did he do but hang around listening to a colleague thirty years his junior and try to talk him through a lovesick drunk. A junior who didn't take the time to listen to what he was saying. Takaba scrubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket.

_God, Philippe, I'm so sorry..._

The nurse had told him that Philippe had spoken before he'd gone under general anesthesia. He'd been somewhat incoherent, she'd said, and he'd spoken in English. One of the doctors had understood though. She asked Takaba if he knew Susan to let her know Philippe's last words were about her. That he'd never stopped loving her and should have asked her to marry him.

He wanted to throw and break things, but had nothing he could so he stuck his hands into his pockets and balled them into fists. Why the hell hadn't Philippe tried to contact her? He'd known he was running out of time. Why waste it with someone who was just a friend? Maybe this Susan was happy. But then again, maybe she would have been happier, especially hearing it before it was too late. How much would she be hurt because she was left not knowing something like that for all this time... 

_It wasn't right..._

_He should have trusted..._

His breathing stilled as it hit him.

_Asami..._

_What did I do to you?_

He'd been wondering what Asami must have been feeling all this time. Now maybe he knew.

Seven years. For seven years he'd tried to make himself into a man he thought would be worthy to stand at Asami's side, and he was only just now figuring out that to do that he shouldn't have left to begin with. 

A man and woman came out of the doors of the ER together, the man with a cast, their voices happy. Not all stories here had sad endings. He wondered if his still had a chance. The girl might be a better investment; he just had to change what Asami wanted to invest in. He'd wanted it once, more than money, more than his safety, more than his pride. 

A cab had pulled up and was dropping a woman and child off. He flagged it down.

So long as Asami wasn't married, it wasn't too late. He'd make him see his choices. He'd make him understand what was at stake. Their future was too important for anything less.

 

Tbc


	2. Chapter 2

There was no one living at their old apartment, but Asami's second apartment had a window lit despite it being almost four in the morning. Takaba went up the elevator and knocked on the door, too exhausted to be nervous, but wondering if it would even open and if it did who would open it.

It was Asami, fresh from a shower with a towel on his head and in his typical white robe. They stood there staring at each other. Asami's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong? Why have you been crying?" Then after a pause, "Did you miss me that much at dinner?"

The callous question recalled the pain of the night he'd had. "Philippe... he just.... he died," he said helplessly. He no longer burst into tears as easily as he used to, but they still shimmered in his eyes. Even so, he wasn't about to lose it in front of Asami. He pressed his lips together and raised his chin.

Asami sighed, then pushed the door open, toweling his head dry before tossing the cloth back down the hall. "You can't wander around like this. Come inside."

"I'm not here for charity!"

"I'm not offering any. Get your ass in here so you stop bothering my neighbors."

Takaba shoved past him into the apartment. "God forbid that you show any concern."

"You don't want to pick a fight with me right now, Takaba." Asami closed the door softly and locked it, then turned and leaned back against it, arms folded.

"The hell I don't. I just spent six hours in a hospital while a friend died, someone who spent one of his last days on earth trying to get something through my head. And I'm about to pound it into yours. Do you love her?"

"What if I do? It's none of your concern."

"No games. Not tonight. This is important. This is us. This is our last chance."

"And whose fault is that?"

"It's mine. Spill it, Asami. Do you love her?"

Asami opened his mouth, then shut it, then tried again. "Of course I don't. It's a business alliance and it's extremely useful. She is, however, a pleasant child that I will treat with the respect due my wife." 

"Oh? Are you going to be faithful to her?"

"No. What's that have to do with anything? I'll keep her satisfied, but she won't be able to satisfy me. She was raised to submit to men and that bores me. But if you're looking to be my mistress I might consider it. Provided you beg prettily."

"Fuck you. So you really couldn't care less about her, except as a means to an end. Is the business deal so much more important than love?"

Asami considered him coldly before replying. "I tried love once, remember? It didn't work out so well."

"If at first you don't succeed, try again. What's the matter Asami, afraid to get back on the horse?"

"Are you offering to be my pony, Akihito?" The soft words were laced with danger but he didn't care. Asami had called him Akihito and his heart responded.

He took a step forward. "Yes. I want you back. I left because I didn't think I was good enough. I made myself into something that I thought was. But I didn't handle it the right way. I should have talked to you. I should have trusted you more. I should have stayed. But I was young and overwhelmed and above all I was stupid. I know it's not enough to say this, but I'm sorry."

Asami stared at him, unmoving, eyes hard. "You threw it all away. I don't give second chances."

"Why?" he demanded. "You used to. Remember when I betrayed you to Feilong? All you did was try to cage me. You didn't care what I did, so long as I did it near you. What's so different now? Do you only like them too young to know better?"

Finally. A flash of some anger in those golden eyes. 

"Or are you really afraid? Asami the Conservative. I have heard that it's harder to take risks when you get so old..."

Asami's face showed something Takaba didn't remember ever seeing before. Or maybe it was something he didn't want to remember, because it looked like a mix of shock and revulsion. The older man spit out his next words. "I've killed men for less."

"So shoot me."

Takaba stepped so close to Asami he felt the man's heat through his clothes, and pulled Asami's head down so their lips were a mere breath apart. "Where's your gun, Asami? Don't you need one now to tame me?"

Asami struck like a snake, mauling Takaba's mouth with his own, his hand forcing the other's head back at a painful angle so he could press deep inside. 

Takaba tried to jerk his head away but he'd forgotten the strength in those hands, making him take everything their owner wanted. They fought tongue to tongue, teeth sharp on sensitive skin and lips. Asami finally pulled back, blood on his lips, and Takaba had no idea which of theirs it was. He glared up and saw an answering fire in his mate's eyes.

"If you start this again, Takaba, there'll be no going back."

"Will you give her up?"

Asami's eyes held no affection. "No. I need a wife. You'll be my mistress, at my beck and call."

Takaba struggled and shoved away. "You need a wife for what?" he snarled. "For more money? More power? Children? Don't tell me you want kids."

"It's none of your business what I want with her."

"It's every bit my business, because it involves you. And because it's me _or_ her, not _and_. I'll give you a chain to use on me, if that's what you want. But I'll only accept it one way."

"Oh? First you make requests, now demands? You're hardly in the postition-"

"Marry _me_."

Asami froze, an incredulous look on his face. "You can't be serious."

"Dead serious. We can do it the Japanese way, by adoption, but I want a ceremony where we exchange vows. I want it to really mean something when I swear to stay by your side for the rest of my life. I want it to mean something for both of us."

His thick wet hair stuck in all directions as Asami ran his hands back through it. "You're serious."

"Give her up. Marry me instead. I'm worth it now."

"You were always worth it, you fool! You're the only one who failed to see that. Or maybe you didn't want to so you'd have yet another excuse to run. What will it be next time?"

Takaba stepped forward again and ran his palms along the robe's plush lapels. "I'm done running, unless it's toward you. I just ran halfway around the world to find you again. Marry me, Asami. I love you."

Asami's arms hung limply at his sides. He sighed and brushed past Takaba to walk into his living room and toward the liquor cabinet. "What a pain in the ass you are." 

Ice clinked into a whiskey tumbler, followed by a golden liquid that Takaba could tell was scotch from the smoky odor wafting across the room. Asami downed it in one smooth motion, then filled the glass again, only to sip at it this time, staring off into space.

Takaba watched, wondering what was going through that complex mind in front of him. "What have you been doing with yourself these past years?"

Asami slid his gaze over to him. "Pleasant conversation now? The weather has been lovely this week too, hasn't it?"

"I'm just trying to—"

"I know what you're trying to do. What do you think I've been doing, Takaba? You never wondered enough to contact me, did you?"

"I was afraid. I was weak."

"I won't argue with you there."

"I had to make a clean break, Asami. To grow up outside your shadow. It doesn't mean I didn't think of you. I thought of you every day." Takaba pulled out his wallet. "Look. Look inside." He tossed it onto the small bar.

Asami stared at it, then picked it up one-handed and thumbed it open. A half dozen worn pictures fell out. Four were of him. "What were you thinking about, I wonder, when you looked at these? You couldn't have been thinking that I had a heart, could you?"

Every word cut like a knife, and hurt all the worse because he knew he deserved it. "I... I knew I'd hurt you. But I knew you could take it. You were so much stronger than I was. And I thought we would be better for it, that this way we could truly last. I didn't see how we had a chance back then."

"You were wrong. We could have faced anything together."

"I know I was wrong! I know I should have stayed and worked through it with you. It's what an adult would have done. I wasn't one. Asami, if we could face anything then, why can't we now?"

Asami didn't answer.

"I'm watching you refuse to put her away. I keep asking myself why. You don't love her. Is it stubbornness, is it pride? You were never so stupid to let that get in the way of your happiness, so I can't believe it's that."

"You're not the only one who's changed."

"Not that much. Not you."

"Your confidence in me is moving." Said in flat tones. Like he was tired.

"Then what is it? It's not money, is it?"

"No."

"And it's not power."

"I don't need it, but it would have been nice."

 _Would have been?_ Hope fluttered in his breast.

"Asami, if you want children, we can arrange it..."

"It's not that. God, could you see me with a passel of brats?"

"You'd make a great dad."

Asami shot him a withering glance.

"You would..."

"Right. If they survived to adulthood they might even thank me."

"Then what can she give you that you want so badly? That I can't?"

Drink in hand, Asami walked over to his floor-to-ceiling window and leaned against the support there, gazing out over the harbor. He snorted softly. "Nothing."

"Asami...?"

"All of my life, I've taken what I wanted and damned the consequences. I took ruthlessly, because if I wanted something badly enough I had no problem removing the obstacles that prevented me from getting it. It's how I took you."

"I remember," Takaba said softly.

"No doubt. It's what allowed me to get to the top, being hard and decisive. Everything fell into place. Nothing could stand in my way." Asami turned his head and looked straight at him. "Except you."

Takaba swallowed.

"You were the one thing I couldn't shake, couldn't control. I'd put you aside; you'd show up again. I'd capture you; you'd escape. You ate at my thoughts. You never did what was expected. Half the time because you were an idiot. But just when I'd think that I knew where things were headed, you'd come along and throw them into a spin."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? It was exhilarating."

"But then.... I don't understand..."

Asami turned and set his back to the window. "I found your return to be incredibly inconvenient. First the interview, then the flowers and asking to see me. It was unexpected and ill-timed. I had reports to finish, a tux to get measured for. I had to meet Satoka-san, my father-in-law-to-be today. I was late with all of it, thanks to you."

Takaba's heart sunk. "I'd apologize, but I... I really don't understand what you're getting at."

"Don't you? Today I found myself getting annoyed at you for disrupting my schedule." 

Asami walked toward him, setting his glass down as he passed an end table. "My schedule. Like little tick boxes I'd follow faithfully and check off as I went, day in and day out. I'd become complacent, without you here. And it happened so gradually I never even noticed, until you walked back in and shattered all my perceptions again. Mr. Conservative. You were the only one with the courage to say it to me. That I'd fallen into a pattern that was leading me toward some kind of... normal, safe existence. Me. Asami Ryuichi."

Takaba understood the revulsion he saw earlier. "You weren't disgusted with me. You were disgusted that you'd let it get that far."

"It pissed me off that I was on the verge of stepping into something that would have appalled me ten years ago. Especially since it was you that made me see it –you, who were so blithely waltzing back into my life, assuming I'd had nothing better to do than wait. And there I am, finding out that that was true."

"I don't know what to say..."

"Seven years and you still don't get it. You don't have to say anything. You just have to be who you are. That's always been enough."

Takaba swallowed, and said nothing. 

"What, you're actually taking my advice? You _have_ changed."

Asami paused in his approach, only inches away. "So I find myself days away from a wedding that I don't particularly want or need. That's not an issue. I'll simply break it off. But the bigger question is what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Marry me?" Takaba asked a little sheepishly.

"Why would I jump from one trap into another?"

"...Because it's not the normal thing to do?"

He surprised a laugh out of Asami.

"You see? That's what separates you from everyone else. When you walked back into my office, I hated you. I hated you for leaving me. I hated you for the pain you didn't seem to give a damn about. I hated you for letting me become what your presence showed me I was. And I find that I can't live without you. Akihito, you should run for your life. But it's too late for you now. I will marry you."

Takaba felt dizzy, the future he'd wanted suddenly rushing toward him at the speed of light.

Asami pulled him forward and bent his head. "And you'd better understand this: Tomorrow you'll become Asami Akihito, and you will never escape from me again."

"I don't want to," Takaba whispered. "I really don't want to. God I've missed you so much." He buried his nose in Asami's neck, and hung on to him for all he was worth. "I love you so much." He laughed shakily. "I promised myself that I wouldn't but I think I'm about to cry."

Asami held him. "It wouldn't be you if you didn't."

The anguish of the past few days came pouring out in tears and incoherent words, the anticipation, the shock, the distress, the shattered hopes, the loss. Asami said nothing, just let it flow, as if he knew wounds needed to be drained. And drain they did, slowly filling with calm joy as he leaned against the one who'd always been his center, finally understanding that in the some way he was the same to Asami. He'd won, and like Philippe had said, it was worth any risk. The robe under his cheek was damp, but he stayed there, listening to the steady heart that beat underneath. It had always been there for him, he'd just been too foolish to understand what Asami had really been saying.

A craving grew in him, and he pushed the bathrobe aside so he could rub his cheek against the warm skin underneath. 

Two of Asami's fingers lifted Takaba's chin, a sexual arrogance plain across his face. "How long has it been for you?"

"Years. I tried other guys a couple of times just to take the edge off, but it wasn't any good. How about you?"

"Too long." He lowered his head to lick the rim of Takaba's ear. "I thought about you though, what I'd like to do with you."

Takaba pressed into him, giving him access. "Tell me," he whispered.

"I was going to punish you if I ever saw you again," Asami murmured, teeth now nipping along Takaba's throat.

He hardened instantly. So many nights he'd dreamt of Asami's "punishments" and come in his hand at the thought.

"But you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?" Asami's hand ran lightly along the bulge between Takaba's legs. "So instead I think I'll tease you sweetly... tenderly..." His hand slipped into the front of Takaba's jeans, his fingertips playing with what he found there. "My beautiful bride."

Takaba struggled a little. "I'm no bride!"

"You are. You'll wear a gown for me tomorrow night. White, with white lace stockings and a garter belt, and I'll bend you over the couch and push it to your waist and take you from behind."

His cock throbbed at the words, Asami's fingers on it making it hard for him to even think.

"Why wait? Do it now," he pleaded.

"Perhaps I will punish you a little. You deserve it for walking out." Asami's hand withdrew, the absence of touch almost painful to Takaba, tears starting in his eyes from the loss.

"Asami, no... Please, I need you. Tonight..."

Asami's arms came down around him, holding him close. "You've had a difficult day. I won't push you away. You'll sleep with me tonight, as you will from now on. But we'll wait for our wedding night for the rest."

"Bastard." Though it was only said in exhaustion, for lack of anything better.

"My other fiancée called me Asami-sama." 

"I'm not about to!"

"She bored me." Asami lifted him in his arms and carried him down the hall, a good thing because he no longer felt capable of walking.

Fatigue had finally overtaken him, and as he felt gentle hands start to undress him, he let them do so without a fight. He thought he heard a quiet voice say "I missed you, Akihito," before he was gathered into the arms he'd yearned for and fell fast asleep.

 

\--

 

The next day was a long one. He contacted the paper to see if they knew of any family or will for Philippe. Unfortunately they did not, so he started funeral arrangements himself, trying to find friends and colleagues to inform them. They were all shocked and saddened at the news, but none were really close.

Takaba felt horrible that he'd been so wrapped up in himself the past few days that he'd not been there more for Philippe. He felt even worse because he was so happy about what had happened with Asami, and it was really thanks to Philippe pointing him in the right direction.

But at least he knew that Philippe would be really happy if he knew that Asami and he were getting back together, especially knowing he'd helped get them there. He made a vow to always keep some wine in fresh supply at Philippe's tomb, so he'd never run dry. It was the least he could do for his friend.

That and contact Susan. He was going to ask for Asami's help with that.

His cell phone had been ringing all day, and when it rang again late in the afternoon he expected someone else about the funeral.

"Hello, this is Takaba."

It was Kirishima. "Asami-sama said all arrangements have been made, and you're to return home."

Takaba's stomach muscles tightened as he recalled exactly what arrangements Asami had in mind. "Thanks. Er, Kirishima..."

"What?"

"Were there... a lot of problems today?"

There was a pause before he was answered curtly. "What do you think? Once again he had to make sacrifices for you, this time his flagship hotel chain to appease the family. There was no appeasing her."

Takaba felt sorry, but not that sorry. "I love him. I can make him happy."

"You drive him to distraction. You make him insane."

Takaba didn't know what to say, because he knew that was only true.

A sigh came over the line. "But today he was himself once more, the first time in years. I'll tell you though, Takaba Akihito, if you do anything to make him miserable again I'll personally hunt you down and use your guts for shark bait. While you're still alive and attached. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," he squeaked.

"Good. Now get going. He's waiting for you. And by the way," the voice turned smug, "your gown is lovely." A click closed the connection.

Takaba swore softly. 

 

\--

 

Asami was waiting in the living room when he got home, dressed formally in a black tuxedo. He always did take care to dress properly for occasions. It made him look sexier than ever, and Takaba took a moment to appreciate the effort. "Not bad for an old man."

"I bought it for the wedding. I thought I may as well use it." The eyes watching him crinkled with amusement. "Your clothes are in the bedroom. I took care not to crush the hemline."

"Gee, thanks. You know, it's really not necessary..." his voice drifted off to silence when Asami's eyebrow rose. "Okay, okay. Just this once. It's a special occasion."

But when he found himself alone in the bedroom and began dressing, he couldn't help but identify with women on their wedding days. The clothes Asami had chosen were exquisite, made of the finest silks, and even as he rolled the stockings up his legs he couldn't help but hope that Asami was pleased with how he looked. 

The skin of his thighs was soft under the garter belt straps he attached to his stockings. He let his fingers play there for a moment, wondering if Asami would make good on what he'd said. The front of the white silk panties that he'd put on began to bulge outward, and he stopped before he had to do something about it.

 _I wouldn't want to ruin the line of my dress_ , he thought with a laugh. As he put the rest of the clothing on, he reflected that the day would hold some of the highest and lowest moments of his life. The lowest were done with for now, and he was more than ready for some happiness. They both were.

The delicate material of the white gown fluttered around his ankles, and he slipped into the low-heeled shoes waiting for him, the perfect size of course. He turned a little to look at himself in the mirror, and blushed. This was silly, but if it was what Asami wanted...

"Almost perfect." The baritone from behind made him turn suddenly, and because of the shoes he almost fell. 

Asami caught him, then set him on his feet. "Careful. You're lovely, but you need one last thing," and he pulled a gold chain from his pocket. A large teardrop diamond hung from it. 

"What the heck am I supposed to do with that?" Takaba said rather forcefully.

"I want to decorate you so everyone knows you're taken. Indulge me."

"When don't I?" Takaba grumbled, though he only did it out of habit. The fact that Asami had thought to get him a gift pleased him. "But... I didn't buy you anything."

One long finger under his chin tilted his face up. "The gifts you give are never things that can be bought." He continued dryly. "You've made that clear any number of times."

He blushed.

"There. You see?" Asami offered his arm. "Come, we have papers to sign."

They returned to the living room where the marriage papers waited on a table, champagne in a bucket beside them, along with a bouquet of flowers and a box with two rings waiting to be taken. Everything on the forms was mostly filled in. They merely had to sign their names, which was quickly done. Asami reached for the champagne. 

"But wait," Takaba said a little hesitantly, "I mean, we're supposed to make vows to one another first. Right?"

"If you'd like."

Takaba lifted Asami's left hand and picked up the larger ring, then slipped it onto his husband's ring finger. He touched the gold, feeling it warm, hoping Asami's heart did as well. 

"I, Takaba Akihito—" 

"Asami Akihito," Asami corrected sternly.

"I.... Asami Akihito...." His voice wavered slightly, then grew stronger. "I promise to try to communicate better. To trust you. To never again betray your trust. To become your husband in all ways. And more than anything else, to love you for the rest of my life."

Asami frowned. "And to not run away again."

"I promise to not run away again. Unless—"

Asami clamped a hand over his mouth. "No exceptions."

He scowled, then reluctantly nodded acceptance.

Asami pulled his hand away and stroked Akihito's cheek with it. The gold was warm indeed.

After placing the other ring upon Akihito's left hand, Asami gazed at it with no little satisfaction. "I, Asami Ryuichi, promise to protect you and take care of you for the rest of your life."

Akihito looked up at him expectantly, but there were no more words. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Asami considered him for a moment. "I can promise I'll fuck you every night, whether you like it or not."

Akihito glared up at him.

Asami added helpfully, "And I promise if you get pregnant I'll support you and the child."

He got clouted with the bouquet until he took it away and threw it across the room. "Taka—ah, no longer Takaba. Akihito then. Did you return just to hear those words you seem to want from me? Or did you return to feel them?"

"I... to feel them, if I have to choose. But I'd rather have both. Is it really that hard to say?"

"Men are known by their actions, not their words." Asami bent and kissed him softly, his lips speaking silently.

A reluctant smiled bloomed on Akihito's lips. "I love you too, Asami."

"I'd like to request a wedding gift."

"What?" Akihito asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"Normally brides promise to obey. I could only dream of such a thing. Unless you give it to me as a gift. Promise to obey me for just tonight."

Asami's face gave away nothing. It looked so pleasantly bland. Akihito wasn't fooled for a minute. He should say no. He knew it would be stupid to say yes. But something inside him was making him feel wild and he so wanted to take that risk. He nodded.

"Say it. 'I, Asami Akihito, promised to obey my husband's every wish on our wedding night.'"

"I... I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

Asami waited patiently.

"Dammit. Okay. Just for tonight. I, Asami Akihito, promise to obey my husband's every wish on our wedding night."

Asami's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Now show me."

"How?"

He nodded toward the couch. "Make yourself ready for me."

Akihito's cheeks burnt. "Is this really necessary?"

Asami shrugged. "Of course not." Akihito breathed a sigh of relief. "Not if you already plan to break your wedding vows..."

"You think you're going to win every argument with that, don't you?" The toe of his slipper peaked out from under the hem of his gown and tapped on the carpet. His lover's gaze shifted down to it and his lips twitched.

"I do. The couch, Akihito." His voice turned serious. "Show me you can keep your word, even it it's unbearably hard to do."

His eyes widened in understanding. Then he couldn't let Asami down. Embarrassed or not, he'd see this through. Moving over to the white leather sofa that faced the bay window, he placed his hands upon the back and bent slightly.

"Your skirt, raise it."

He felt himself harden at the command, the silk around him tightening. It only made him more excited. He picked the skirt up, scrunching it in his hands until it reached his thighs. The lace tickled, making his cock twitch.

"Above your waist. Show me your panties."

He thought he'd burst from shame, or maybe it was excitement, he couldn't tell, but he lifted the hem of his dress up to his waistline, and stood there trembling.

"Beautiful. Now bend over more, so your cheek is lying on the back of the sofa." Asami's baritone was closer. He felt the hair on his arms stand on end as he obeyed and bent his head down to lie there. The cold air on his thighs reminded him of just how much of himself was exposed.

A slight pressure along the panty's seam at the bottom made him jump. It was Asami's fingertip, running along the edge where his left leg met his body. It teased the silk already tugging at his erection. "The lace is a nice touch, don't you think?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't speak.

"But you're not ready for me yet, are you, Akihito?" His name was spoken softly in his ear, and it brought him close to coming. "Push your panties down a little, just to the tops of your thighs."

His hands shook as he followed orders. Thinking was impossible, so he did as he was told.

"So obedient."

His cock was trapped inside the panties, and he moved a hand to take it out, but Asami gently grasped the hand and moved it away. "No, I like it like that. You should see how you're wetting the silk and stretching it. You're so aroused already." 

The wet material was taut against the head of his cock, and when Asami flicked it with his finger it sent the vibrations to his core. "Uhn...."

"I've missed your voice. Cry out for me again." Asami's hand slipped up to the outside of the silk and began caressing him lightly through it, and moans started spilling from him. Asami's kisses began moving down his back, unzipping and nipping and licking his way down to his center.

"Look at the window, Akihito. See how beautiful you look, a debauched bride."

His reflection showed it was true, his face a deep red, his eyes glazing over with pleasure as Asami's fingers and tongue continued to tease him.

"Now spread yourself wide open for me with your hands. Let me see how lewd you are."

He hesitated, shame once again over-taking him. Two of Asami's fingers began caressing the skin between his cheeks, and he widened his stance and pressed backwards, and Asami asked in a mild tone. "Do you want me inside you?"

He couldn't say it. He hid his face.

"No? Pity. It would have been fun." Asami's fingers just traced circles around where he wanted them to be.

Dammit. "I do," he mumbled into his arms.

"Then show me where." He ached with the need to feel Asami moving in him, so much that he almost didn't care how he appeared anymore. Reaching back, he spread himself open. 

"Where? Touch yourself there for me."

He closed his eyes, mortified. But he moved a finger and lightly touched himself.

Asami's fingertip rubbed lightly around the spot he wanted to feel filled. "Here?"

"Yes."

"Fingers, or tongue?"

God, Asami's tongue would send him over the edge.

"Tongue it is."

Had he spoken? "But—"

"Hush."

A wet slippery wiggling thing pressed into him, and he cried out in a loud voice. "No!" But it was relentless, stroking him from within, reaching deeper than he thought possible. 

He felt cum stir in the base of his cock and Asami's hand clamped hard around him. "Not yet, Akihito." 

"Asami..." he pleaded.

"Soon. But when I say. Obey me." Asami removed his hand, expecting his words to be enough.

Akihito started breathing heavily, trying to control his impulses. It was like standing on the edge of a waterfall and trying to get back upstream. But he'd promised.

Asami stood and Akihito heard his zipper, then felt a hot length of flesh fall against his ass, then rub along the crack, saliva and pre-cum slicking him up. His lover bent over him, the wool of his tux scratchy on his back, and spoke into his ear. "Who do you belong to, Akihito?"

"Who do you think?" Asami rubbed his cock between Akihito's legs, massaging his balls with the head. His frustration at not being allowed to come was building to unbearable levels.

"Tell me." The deep voice sent shivers through him.

"You. I belong to you dammit!"

"Ah, you're mine, Asami-kun. Now show me you understand that. Push yourself back onto me." The thick head of Asami's cock pressed against his tight ring of flesh. He'd been loosened and he was wet, but Asami was huge and it had been years. His breath was now in gasps as he tried to relax and accommodate his lover. 

"I—I can't!"

"Is this how you keep your word?" Asami asked mildly. "You have two minutes. And then I'll do it and I won't be gentle."

That stung more than the act ever would. It was more than uncomfortable, and Akihito squirmed with every inch that he took in. He wanted to pause and ease himself, but he knew better than to stop. It filled him, slowly, without ceasing, until he felt Asami's thighs against his.

He collapsed against the couch, sobs pouring from him, Asami's arms coming around him to hold him up, his voice in his ear. "This is how it will always be with us, Akihito. It will never quite be comfortable, and yet in the end what we do with it makes it worth it. I had to make sure you understood and accepted that."

"I d-do. So shut up and f-fuck me!"

Asami laughed, his pleasure evident. "Now it's time for something good." He slowly pulled free, then Akihito felt slick fingers probing him to spread lube around. When he was again penetrated, it glided up through his passage, sending nerve endings tingling.

"God. My God."

"Ah, that too," Asami murmured with a chuckle, pushing deeper until he was fully seated within. "Is it good?"

He'd needed this for so long. "Yes! More. Move." And as an afterthought, "Please."

"Demanding little bride..." Asami pulled back, almost all the way out, and thrust forward again. Akihito's vision faded a little as blood rushed to his erection, his already hard cock swelling to the point of pain. Asami's started pounding their hips together, his motion relentless, the stimulation unbearable.

"Asami... I can't hold it in!"

"Obey me."

"I can't... Ryuichi please."

"You gave your word."

"Oh God!" Akihito groaned, but he held it in, arching his back to receive Asami more deeply.

"Akihito..."

"Mine..." Akihito ground out. "My husband..."

"Yes." Asami growled and plunged into him, the jarring making Akihito cry out helplessly for relief. "Now come for me." 

Asami's hand tore the silk away and milked wave after wave of cum from his body as he shook uncontrollably in orgasm, right before he fainted.

 

\--

 

The next morning he had vague memories of a warm bath while being held like a child, and being tucked into bed. He didn't mind. He awoke in the one place he'd desired to be in all the world, and smiled up into eyes that left no doubt that this was where he belonged.

 

\--

 

The business world was abuzz when the news broke. A young French reporter from Le Monde dared to question them outside of Sion one night as they were leaving the club.

"Monsieur Takaba, is it true that you're the one who broke up the Asami-Satoko merger? That the two of you are married now?"

"It's Monsieur Asami now." Akihito stopped, and Asami halted beside him, fierce satisfaction in his eyes at the reply. "You're Philippe's replacement, aren't you?"

The young man nodded.

"He was a good man. You'd do well to study his example."

"I was hoping to learn from you."

"Maybe." Akihito grinned. "I have less time these days. But I'll never give up reporting."

"Of course. What could be more important?"

"Love," shrugged Akihito, "C'est tout."

The young man grinned back. "You're French at heart. I'll call you in a few weeks when you're feeling more Japanese again."

"It might be longer than that," Akihito smiled.

 

\--

 

It was several weeks before they found Susan. One of Kirishima's men traced some acquaintances who'd known them both in college in London, and from there he was led to a small town in Wiltshire where she'd taught English literature, then retired. Luckily Akihito had learned English in his time in Europe, and Asami had always spoken it well. At Akihito's insistence he and Asami traveled there together to meet her in person, out of respect for what Philippe had done for them. They both looked forward to a few days away from the media frenzy.

Susan turned out to be a woman of moderate means, her tall form and still-sweet face showing that she must have been a great beauty in her youth. She also turned out to be a grandmother, with five children and twenty-three grandchildren. Akihito patted Asami on the back when he choked on his cigarette at the number. And she showed them pictures of every last one, Asami's eyes promising retribution to Akihito as every new photo was revealed. 

Once they finally sat taking tea and biscuits, Akihito brought up the purpose of their visit. "Mrs. Harris, about Philippe Bouissou..."

"I followed all his stories, you know. I used to dream about what my life would have been like had I married him."

"Would you have?" Asami asked, curious. "If he'd asked."

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "We were both so young, neither one of us had the courage to make that commitment. Looking back now, I wish I'd pressed him about it."

Akihito reached over and took her hand. "He wanted to tell you that he'd always loved you, and that he should have asked."

There were tears in her eyes as she rose and walked to the window overlooking her garden, and fussed with a potted plant there. "Well. Life is full of missed chances, isn't it? Some hurt more than others, but we press on and make the best of it, and if lucky find happiness in the choices we do make. I truly am happy now. I wouldn't give up my family for anything." She straightened her shoulders and came back to her chair. "I hope he found some measure of happiness too. Did he?"

Akihito nodded. "He lived every day as if it were his last. You were his only regret, I think."

"I hope he didn't feel it too keenly. He was a lovely young man." She smiled and sat quietly, her eyes losing focus as she became lost in her thoughts. 

After the silence stretched on a few minutes, Asami rose. "We hate to leave, but we have a flight to catch."

"Of course. You came all this way for his sake. I'm glad he had such friends. Thank you for looking after him."

"Ma'am." Akihito bowed.

She and two of her grandchildren walked them out down a stone path to where Suoh waited with their limo. He was still munching the cookies she'd had the older grandchild take out with tea, and he quickly jumped up and brushed the crumbs away when Asami cleared his throat and stood by the back door of the car. 

"Forgive me for being forward," she said, "but are you two a couple?"

Asami and Akihito glanced at one another. 

"Yes, we are." Akihito answered cautiously.

"You just seemed like you belong together. I was wondering if Philippe saw that too."

"I think he did, ma'am. We were apart when he met us, and he told me that love was worth any risk. So I took it. And he was right."

"I'm so glad. That would make him happy." She looked at Asami. "You're very lucky, you know, that he had the courage to do that."

"Yes," Asami said with a slight bow. "I know his worth."

"I believe you do." She smiled. "Have a safe trip home. And thank you again." She had her grandson hand another package of cookies to Suoh, who ignored Asami's scowl and stuck them in the front seat, then she stood back and waved them off.

Akihito looked back as they drove off. Her arms were around the children as she walked back to her house.

"Do you think it's good that we told her? She looked so sad for a moment."

Asami looked over at him, eyebrow raised. "Isn't it better for her to know that she was so loved? Wouldn't you want to know?"

Akihito smiled. "I surely would."

There was no flight to catch, of course. Asami had lied to get out of there. They'd booked a room at the Ritz for three nights and planned to both do a little business and indulge themselves, something rare for either one. 

As the limo continued along the road back to London, they sat quietly beside one another. Akihito's left hand lay upon the seat between them. Asami's right hand lay on top, his fingertips tracing the ring on the hand below. It had already become a habit with him.

Akihito smiled to himself. "You like it, that ring there."

"Ah. I should get you more, one for a collar, one for below."

"Ha. Ha. By the way, the paper called. They want me to do a few pieces on the underworld in Japan and how it's changed in the last decade."

Asami shot him an annoyed glance. "Your timing couldn't be worse."

"Oh, is mean Asami back? Is the honeymoon over?"

"Perhaps it is," Asami mused. "Perhaps it's time to put away your gown and get out your everyday outfits, like the maid uniform I ordered."

"The hell...!"

But he caught the flash of amusement before the face was turned toward the window. And felt the fingertips on his hand once more.

Akihito leaned over and rested his head against his husband's shoulder. "And I love you too, Monsieur Unconventional."

Asami snorted softly as he continued watching the world roll by. His hand never left his lover's.

 

~end~


End file.
